


Queen Of The Rink

by anemic_cinema



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Divorce, F/F, Friendship, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Rating will change, Roller Derby, au-no walkers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:35:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2308235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemic_cinema/pseuds/anemic_cinema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Definition: Game in which players try to push each other out of bounds or knock each other down. The last player standing is the queen of the rink/track.</p><p>Lori finds something that gives her life without Rick new meaning, as well as new friendships and new loves. Shane tries to work out how he feels about Rick. Glenn finds friendship and love in a surprising place. Andrea tries to live down her reputation and convince Michonne she's not the player everyone thinks she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fresh Meat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> def.A new skater that has not completed minimum skills.

“Mom, I don't want to talk about it.”

Lori pinched the bridge of her nose. She'd been on the phone with her mother for five minutes and already she wanted to jump off the the nearest building. 

“Honey, I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life, I'm just asking if you really think this is wise. What about Carl?”

“Mom! Carl is fine, he'd coping just fine. Hell, most of his friends at school have parents that are either divorced or separated.”

“Now that's just sad.”

Lori hunched over the kitchen table, rubbing her forehead. All she'd done was call to say hello, to be a good daughter, and now she was having to rehash bullshit she'd already gone over a million times with her dear mother who could not let certain things go.

“Look, all I'm saying is that you shouldn't make any rash decisions. You've been married to Rick for how long, 12 years?” 

“13, mom.”

“Exactly, and before that, you were high school sweethearts! It just kills me to think you're throwing all of that away.”

“I've got to go, I've gotta get to work.” 

“At the coffee shop?” The way her mother said it made it sound like she was working at a brothel. Lori sighed. Her mother was one of those old fashioned Southern women who firmly believed that every woman needed a husband, and that the husband should provide for the family while the wife stayed at home. Unfortunately, that kind of model did not pay the electricity bill anymore. The week Rick had moved out, she'd lucked out and found a job at the coffee shop where she bought her daily latte. It had been rough at first, considering she'd been out of the work game since Carl was born, but now she could sling out coffee drinks and food with the best of them. The pay wasn't much, but Rick was still helping out money wise, until they figured out just what was going to happen. And if they did make the separation final, well...Lori figured that she'd cross that bridge when she got to it.

“Yes, now I've really gotta go. Love you mama.”

“Love you too honeybunch. Just promise me you'll think about what I said?”

“Yes. Bye now.”

“Bye.”

Lori pressed the “end” button, relief washing over her. As much as she loved her mother, talking to her made her blood pressure go up. She looked up at the clock in the kitchen. She had to be out the door in ten minutes. Placing the breakfast dishes in the sink, she planned out her day in her head. From nine to two, she'd work at the coffee shop, getting off just in time to rush over to school to pick up Carl. Rick had been picking him up in the morning and taking him there, which made things easily on her, technically. What wasn't easy was the way Rick would look at her. He was still in love with her, and it made her feel like shit. It wasn't his fault, or hers for that matter, that she'd fallen out of love with him. As her boss at the coffee shop had told her, love is an organic, natural thing. It grows, it blooms, and it rots and dies. And really, what was worse for them and Carl? Pretending that nothing was wrong, while she became more and more resentful, constantly aching for a fight? Or making a clean break, letting the both of them off the hook? 

So Rick agreed to move out and stay with Shane for a while. Good ol' Shane. Back in high school, Lori had never understood why Rick was friends with him. They couldn't have been more different. Shane was the jock, the big man on campus, while Rick was much more serious and reserved. That's what made her fall for him in the first place. He'd been gentle while all the other boys were rough. 

Why wasn't that enough anymore?

Lori grabbed her purse and her car keys and headed out the door. At least while she was at work she didn't have to think too much about it. 

**

The eleven to one rush was always hectic. Lori would go into automatic mode, ringing up orders, pouring drinks, putting pastries and sandwiches on plates. It felt good, this repetitive action, and the tips didn't hurt either. As she was pouring what had to be the thirtieth cappuccino of the day, a voice piped up across the counter.

“Hi, can we leave some fliers here?”

She turned around. Standing there was a tall-ish blonde girl wearing a flowy bright aqua tank top, gold hoop earrings, a necklace with gold letters on it that spelled out “Merbabe” and iridescent leggings with a fish scale pattern on them. Next to her was a skinny Asian guy with shaggy hair that stuck out from under his baseball cap, dressed in a blue and white striped t-shirt, a baseball jersey and jeans. The baseball cap had a giant blood-shot eyeball on the front of it, which was a little weird as far as Lori was concerned.

“I'm sorry, I gotta ask my boss. Jacqui?” She called out, and Jacqui, a forty-something petite Black woman who had cheekbones Lori would have gladly killed for, poked her head out from the back. 

“What's up?”

“These folks wanna leave some fliers here, is that ok?”

“What're they for?”

The Asian guy answered. “Roller derby, we're part of a local league and we're recruiting new members.”

“S'fine by me. Tuna sandwich's up.” Jacqui ducked back into the small kitchen.

Lori grabbed the plate and called out the number on the receipt. “Yeah, just leave them over there under the board.” 

“Thanks a bunch. Say, would you be interested? You don't even need to know how to skate, we'll teach you.” The blonde was bouncing from foot to foot, smiling a bright pink, lip-glossy smile. 

“Oh jeez, I haven't skated since I was a kid. Bill?” Bill came up and took his drink. He took a look at the blonde and let his gaze linger a little too long on her backside. Lori loudly wished him a good rest of the day and he scurried away.

“Hey, before I started I'd never skated before. You'd have an advantage, it's like riding a bike, you never forget.” 

“She's right. When she started she was constantly falling on her ass.”

“Oh like you were any better Glenn.” The blonde punched his arm. “I'm serious, derby is the best.” She pushed a flyer towards Lori. “We practice three times a week at the Skate-N-Fun. Come check it out. You'll get to see hot girls in booty shorts knock each other around.”

That did sound oddly appealing. At the very least it was different. And it would get her out of the house. 

“C'mon Amy, we gotta hit up two more places before I gotta go to work.” Glenn had placed a pile of fliers on the small table by the bulletin board, next to the Avon catalogs and the business cards for real estate agents. 

“I'm coming! So, like I said, come check it out. It don't cost nothing to watch the practices. Bye!” With that, they exited the coffee shop, rushing down the street towards the diner, ostensibly to leave more fliers there. Although the truckers that dined there regularly probably wouldn't be too interested in strapping on skates. 

Lori looked down at the flier. There was an illustration of a green-skinned zombie woman wearing a helmet, protective gear, and roller skates. “Join King County Roller Derby!” and “We want fresh meat!” was written in dripping font across the top of it, along with information for practice times (Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays from seven P.M. to ten P.M.) and directions to the Skate-N-Fun. She slipped the flier in her pocket. Maybe Rick would be willing to watch Carl if she asked nicely.

**

The Skate-N-Fun was tucked in a strip mall close to a tanning salon and a pizza parlor. As Lori climbed out of the car, she shifted her purse from her right shoulder to the left. She didn't understand why she was so damn nervous, all she was doing was going to watch a practice. Rick had agreed to take Carl for the evening without hesitation, much to the boy's delight. Carl adored his father, and any chance he got to hang out with him one on one was an occasion of great joy. Lori wished she could have the same relationship with him, but with her he was always so reserved. 

As she entered the skating rink, she was greeted by a small blonde girl wearing a My Little Pony t-shirt and jeans. She looked to be about Carl's age, maybe younger. 

“Are you here for the practice?” She asked, clearly performing a job that gave her great pleasure. 

“Uh, yes I am.”

“HEY MR. GLENN, WE GOT A NEWBIE!” She yelled out, puffing out her chest dramatically.

“Sophia!” A woman with close-cropped graying hair rushed out of the box office, “What did I tell you about that nonsense!”

The girl look abashed and slunk into the box office. “Sorry mom.”

“I'm sorry about that, she just gets so darn excited about these practices.” The woman waved her hand towards the rink. “Go on right ahead, welcome to the Skate-N-Fun, my name is Carol, and that little hellion is my daughter Sophia.”

“Thank you, and pleased to meet you. I'm Lori.” Lori ambled her way towards the edge of the rink. The place was pretty big. In the wall opposite the rink there was an opening where you could rent skates. The carpet looked like it had seen better days, it's style putting it firmly in the 1970s. There were benches along the wall separating the hall from the rink, and piles of gym bags and other personal items tucked underneath them. Further down were a few arcade games, and a snack bar that advertised cold Coca-Cola, chips, and candy. On the rink were close to two dozen individuals on skates. 

Lori had expected that the people on the team would all be younger and in far better shape than her, but from the looks of it, it was a diverse bunch of people. There were individuals of all shapes and sizes, and all of them were heavily padded and protected. One of them looked over, and started skating over to her waving their arms. It was Glenn, the one who had visited the coffee shop.

“Hey! Coffee shop lady! You made it.” He skidded to a halt by one of the entrances to the rink, and clambered up onto the carpet. “We're just about to run a pace line, wanna come onto the rink to watch? It's a better view.” Lori noticed that he was wearing black nylon short shorts and black leggings, instead of regular shorts that a man might wear. “What's your name by the way?”

“Lori Grimes.” Saying that last name out loud felt a little weird.

“I'm Glenn.” He shook her hand, then spun around and pointed to the back of his shirt. The name Glenn was emblazoned on the back along with the number 88. “I'm a referee, so if you've got any questions just ask me. I'm also in charge of welcoming the beginners and turning them into fresh meat.”

“Fresh meat?” Lori followed him on to the rink.

“That's derby lingo for players in training.” He turned to the other skaters. “Hey ladies, this here is Lori, she's gonna be watching you practice so try not to suck too much.”

“Fuck you Glenn!” The person who shouted that out was a short, chubby Black woman wearing multicolored leggings and a t-shirt that proclaimed her to be Ms Ann Drist, number 665+1. 

“Well, you would know all about sucking, wouldn't you.” The voice came up behind Lori, and turned out to be a tall woman who Lori guessed was about her age. Her helmet was black and splattered with red paint, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. As she skated past, Lori read her shirt. Illegal Eagle, number 250/hr. 

“Hah, jealous much Andrea?” Glenn began to skate a wide circle around the girls.

A whistle sounded out. “Alright, that's enough out of all of y'all. Line up!” Lori planted herself by the wall and watched. That was the coach, Snack City Bitch, number 300lbs, and she was the definition of large and in charge. She had light brown skin, and was at least 6 feet tall, fat, broad shouldered, and squeezed into a spandex outfit that showed off all of it. The players got in a single file, one behind the other, and when the coach blew her whistle, they began to skate. One by one, they weaved between each other, advancing to the front of the line. Each player moved with speed and agility, and even those who took a little longer to complete the exercise looked determined, like even though they weren't as fast as their teammates, they'd still do it and push themselves as hard as they could. They repeated this twice. 

After that, they teamed up in pairs, and began practicing checking each other with their hips. One pair after the other they skated around the area of the rink that was marked off by flat rubber squares, squatting down and hitting each other with their hips. One player (Uh-Mazing Grace, number 32) hit her partner (Bad Charlotte, number 55) so hard that she went flying off the track into a heap by the side. When she landed, all the players broke out into raucous applause and cheering. When Bad Charlotte got up, she was grinning widely, showing off a bright green mouthguard. 

Lori stood on the side in the increasingly stuffy and hot rink, hypnotized. Everyone looked like they were having the time of their lives, even though they were knocking each other down. When the practice ended, and the coach called out for them to do their cool-off laps, one of the players skated up to Lori.

“Hey, I'm so glad you made it!” It was Amy, or as she was known here, Murmaider, number 7 Leagues.

“Yeah, uh, this looks pretty amazing. Y'all were really hitting the heck out of each other.”

“Oh my god, that's the best part!”

Andrea skated past and yelled out “Amy, get your ass back on the track.” 

“Ok sis. I'll talk to you later ok? Don't leave yet.” With that, sprinted off on her skates. 

Lori dug around her purse and checked her cell phone. No messages. She felt a little guilty about dumping Carl with Rick for the evening, but this was the first time she'd gotten a chance to get out of the house in a long time. Besides, Carl preferred being with Rick.

After finishing their laps, the skaters plunked themselves down in a circle in the middle of the rink. Snack City Bitch, who Lori had heard referred to as Gloria by Glenn, was giving them a pep talk, telling them that it had been a good practice, and that they were coming along with the hip checks. With that, the team dispersed to take off their gear. 

“So Lori, whaddya think of our little league?” Amy and Glenn skated by her as she walked towards the rink's exit. 

“It looks real exiting.” 

“So, are you interested?” Amy was looking at her expectantly. 

“I dunno,” Lori looked at the women stripping off their helmets, pads, and skates. “I mean, where do I start?”

Glenn took over. “Well we have some loaner gear, so you don't have to spend a huge chunk of change up front. If you decide to stick with it, there's a store in Atlanta that will give you a good price on a starter kit, or there's some online stores that are good. You'll have to learn the rules and regulations, but that's easy. You can download them for free online.” 

“Ok, well, uh, maybe I could think about it? I mean, I'm pretty interested.” 

“That's cool. You know what, gimme your email, and I'll send you some videos that explain how derby's played. I'm telling ya, you're gonna be hooked when you get to see what it's like.” He pulled out his phone. 

“Ok, my email's lgrimes70@gmail.com.”

“Got it, you'll enjoy seeing us play more if you know what the hell we're doing.” Glenn's enthusiasm was contagious. Lori could feel herself getting excited from the prospect of coming back to watch more. 

“Oh my god, she's at it again.” Amy nodded towards Andrea, who was chatting to a stunningly beautiful Black woman with dreadlocks who looked weirdly familiar to Lori. Her shirt said Michowned, number 300.

“Your sister just doesn't let up, does she?” Glenn shook his head. “She's lucky we don't have any rules against in-team fraternization. Especially after her stunt with Maggie.”

“Seriously. Michonne's like, way out of her league. And it doesn't help that Andrea has a reputation as a heartbreaker now.” Amy turned to Lori. “My sister was dating this chick that was in the league, Maggie, but they had a nasty breakup, and now Maggie won't come back. Gloria's still pissed about it too.” 

“Oh shit, did I tell you? I talked to her yesterday. She said she wants to come back, but needs a little more time. Your sister really fucked her up, dude.”

“I know.” Amy collapsed on the bench and began unstrapping her pads. “I swear to god, Andrea needs to chill.”

Lori blinked. This was definitely a much more diverse group of people than she was used to being around. And she couldn't shake the feeling that she knew Michonne from somewhere. 

“Well, I gotta go pick up my son. Uh, thanks for the welcome, and I'll hopefully see y'all on Sunday.”

“Sounds good. If you decide you wanna join, we're starting the beginners class at the end of the month. If you pass the classes, you can get into the fresh meat practices and work your way up to being a player. Also, a lot of us hang out here on Fridays during the free-skate night. They play music and stuff, and it's all ages so you could bring your son.” Glenn shook out his sweaty hair. “Jesus, I seriously hope Carol's gonna get the damn AC fixed. I was sweating my balls off all practice.”

“She said she's found a guy.” Amy chugged some water from a hot pink bottle, then tossed it to Glenn.

“Ok, well, I'll see y'all around. Thanks again.” Lori waved as she left. 

“Bye Lori.” The both of them chorused after her.

**

Shane's place wasn't too far away from the Skate-N-Fun thankfully. When she knocked on the door of his house, Rick answered.

“Hey. Carl's just grabbing his backpack. Do you wanna come in?”

It killed her when Rick was this friendly. It would've been easier if he was a total asshole

. “Oh no, we gotta get going.” Carl came to the door, carrying the aforementioned backpack.

“Hey mom.”

“Hi honey, did you have a good evening?”

Carl just nodded, and gave Rick a hug.

“How did your thing go? Roller derby, right?”

“It was interesting. I'm thinking of joining up.”

“Really?” Rick looked surprised. He'd never known Lori to take an interest in participating in any kind of team sport.

“Yeah, they're some nice people there, real friendly.” 

“That's good.”

There was a moment of silence between them. This was still too new, too awkward for them. 

“Goodnight Rick. Thanks for helping me out.” She squeezed her son's shoulder, and felt him pull away slightly.

“Anytime, it's no problem at all.”

“Tell Shane I said hi.”

“Will do. Goodnight Lori.” He took a breath, stopping himself from adding 'I love you.' Old habits and old feelings were hard to break. 

“Bye.” 

The drive home was silent save for the radio. Carl just kept staring out the window, deep inside his thoughts. Lori knew being thirteen was difficult enough, and this was just adding to the stress. But there was nothing she could do about it. 

“You know, the place I went to tonight does this thing on Fridays that's an all ages skate, and they have music and arcade games. Would you like to go with me?”

Carl shrugged. 

When they got home he went up to his room and closed the door, only saying “Night mom.” As Lori got ready for bed, she tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in her stomach. There had to be a way to get closer to Carl, despite the separation. Maybe she could convince him to come with her to the skating rink. It could be just the thing.


	2. Falling Small

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Def. Falling with the arms and legs controlled, tucked in to the body, and not flailing

Since Rick had come to stay at his house, every day was a fun and exciting torture session for Shane. He'd extended the invitation without thinking, which was usually par for the course when it came how he interacted with Rick. He'd figured Rick would turn him down, or things would settle down fast between him and Lori. Neither of those things happened, and now his best friend was sleeping in the extra bedroom on an inflatable mattress. Shane had resisted the urge to offer to buy him a futon or a mattress for in there, because that would make it so Rick could stay indefinitely. And that was something he wanted to avoid.

It wasn't that Shane didn't like having him around, it was that being around Rick like this was starting to tear open some pretty festering wounds. Seeing him at his kitchen table drinking coffee in the morning was too domestic. Rick always woke up before him to make it, which just added to the discomfort. Hell, the guy had even taken to cooking dinner for the both of them, and doing dishes. Just the other day Shane had come home from a late shift at the sheriff's station to Rick vacuuming the living room. When Shane told him he didn't need to do that, the other man had just shrugged and said he didn't feel comfortable staying at his house and not helping out. 

These were all things Shane had at some time or another dreamed of, but in his version of things, it was even more intimate. In his version of things, he'd wake up to find Rick at his kitchen table, and give him a kiss before pouring his cup of coffee and sitting down with him.

This feeling wasn't new. Shane had felt this way about Rick since high school. They'd been friends through elementary school and middle school, but it wasn't until high school, and puberty, that Shane had fallen deeply and pathetically in love with Rick. 

He could even remember the exact moment it had happened, when the love he felt for Rick shifted from friendship to something more. They'd been driving in Mr. Grimes' truck down some dirt back road by where they lived, Shane helping Rick practice for his driving test. The late afternoon light was gold and soft, and made Rick's curly brown hair shine. Shane couldn't stop staring at how the light traveled across his friend's face. That was the first time he'd gotten the urge to kiss him, just lean over and lay a kiss on his mouth. It was also the first time that Shane realized that feeling that way was not normal.

Back then, it was even harder than it was now. Shane had grown up being taught that he had to be a man, and that men did certain things. One of those things was liking girls. His father had pushed him towards things like sports, and hunting, and other activities that men are supposed to do and like. And Shane did like all of that stuff, but there was always something nagging at him in the back of his mind. He liked girls fine enough, and was definitely attracted to them, but then there was Rick. Rick wasn't a girl, he was a boy, and Shane liked him. A lot. 

He tried not to think about it. He made himself into a star football player, a popular jock who everybody thought was hilarious, and, most importantly, someone who was irresistible to the opposite sex. Finding girlfriends wasn't hard. Most of the girls at their school found him to be excellent boyfriend material. That's how Shane was able to lose his virginity in the back seat of his dad's car at 16. His dad had made sure he had a condom in his wallet, and told him to have fun, but not to knock the girl up. Maybe it was callous of him, but Shane could not remember for the life of him what the girl's name had been. Mary, or Mariah, something that started with Ma-. 

When he'd told Rick about it, the other boy had laughed and congratulated him. Rick didn't ask for any details, but Shane told him every titillating bit he could remember. After that, it was habit for Shane to share too much about his sexual adventures with his friend. He liked the way his cheeks and ears would turn red when he told him that kind of stuff.

It went on like for a long time, until their senior year. During their spring semester, they decided to go on an overnight camping trip together. Rick had started to date Lori by then, but it was still casual. Shane was too pained by it at the time to think of dating anyone. The lure of doing something on their own was sweet, as was the suggestion of illicit drinking. Shane's father once again provided, slipping him a couple of six packs of beer and telling him to be careful and not to drive drunk. 

They drove out to a spot Rick knew from childhood, a pretty area in the forest by the woods. The temperature was still cool, betraying no hint of impending summer heat. They set up camp and swam in the lake despite it being cold. As he splashed alongside his best friend, Shane felt bittersweetness grip his heart. This was so close to perfection it hurt. 

That night they ate the sandwiches they'd packed in the cooler before leaving, and drank the beer provided by Mr. Walsh. Rick was a little hesitant, but then again he always was when it came to this kind of thing. Between the two of them they managed to kill one of the six packs, and soon were both buzzed and sleepy. The tent they'd brought was big enough for two grown men to sleep in comfortably without needing to be too close to each other. But once they were inside, it became obvious to Shane that it was too close. Even now, Shane recalled what he told himself that night.

'Just sleep with your back to him, so if you get a boner he won't see it.'

Except it didn't work out that way. That night, Shane woke up in the darkness of the tent to find Rick spooning him, his face pressed against the back of his neck, the breath from his nose and mouth warming his skin. Panic shot through Shane in that moment. It was exactly what he'd wanted for so long. Then Rick spoke. 

“Sorry, I just...” His words trailed off, and he nuzzled Shane's neck. “D'you want me to stop?”

Again, Shane could remember the words perfectly. He'd turned around to face his friend, the boy who he loved in so many ways, but couldn't say so because of shapeless fears and worries. “No. I don't want you to stop.” 

Then Rick kissed him. His lips tasted like toothpaste and beer. 

As far as Shane was concerned, that night had been the best night of his life. They kissed and touched each other so urgently under the cover of darkness, their hands as desperate for each other as their mouths. Rick's chin was starting to get stubbly even back then, more so than Shane's ever got. When it rubbed against Shane's skin, it felt finer than anything. Shane was the first to take it to the next level, shoving his hand down Rick's boxers, taking him in his hand, and slowly stroking him. The noises Rick had made were so beautiful, and all Shane wanted was to never forget them, and to hear them every day.

In the moment, it seemed like the pleasure lasted an eternity. But looking back on it, the moment they shared couldn't have lasted more than thirty minutes. Following Shane's lead, Rick had used his hand on him as well, but Shane was better at it. Rick came first, his lips crushed against Shane's. He worked so hard to get Shane off, and Shane kept murmuring soft words to him, having just enough sense to stop himself from saying 'I love you' over and over again.

Finally, frustrated and saying he wasn't doing it right, Rick had inched down and used his mouth. It wasn't Shane's first blowjob, and objectively it wasn't even the best, but it was perfect all the same. Rick even let him finish in his mouth, but spit it out through the tent flap as soon as Shane was done. Despite the cool night air the both of them were sweaty, yet that didn't prevent them from falling asleep in each other's arms. 

The next morning they didn't speak of if, but it didn't matter. They ate breakfast, and went for another swim. This time, Shane swam up to Rick, grabbed him, and kissed him. It turned into a game, the two of them swimming after each other, cutting through the cold lake water to catch each other and kiss. 

Rick's lips tasted like the lake water. 

When they got out of the water they laid in the sun, drying off and warming up. Rick held Shane's hand, and Shane's mind began to race. Thoughts of going to prom with Rick, of running off with him after graduation, maybe to Atlanta or further, of living out the rest of his life with him because that was all he'd ever wanted. It wouldn't be fair to Lori, but she'd understand in time. 

By the time they were packing up their camp, Shane had it all planned out, how they'd go off and be together forever, and it wouldn't matter what anyone would say. As they drove back, they sang along to the songs on the mixtape Rick had made for the occasion. To this day Shane couldn't listen to “Stairway To Heaven” or anything by the Steve Miller Band without feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. When Shane dropped him off at his house, Rick told him he had a really good time, and squeezed his hand. Shane thought his heart would burst.

When he saw Rick at school on Monday, his heart did. As Shane walked to the front of the school, he spotted Rick with Lori. They were holding hands. 

At that moment all the plans he'd made in his head fell apart. Thankfully, they didn't see him, and he was able to duck into one of the boys restrooms and sit in a stall until he could breathe normally again. He stayed there through homeroom and the first half of first period. 

The days that passed afterwards were hazy and numb. When he wasn't at school, football practice, or his job at the gas station, Shane would stay in his room, and feel sorry for himself. He realized that the plans he'd conjured up were completely foolish. What the hell was he thinking, imagining Rick taking him to prom? Boys didn't do that with other boys. When the sadness got too much he would dig out the sleeping bag from that night and bury his face in it, certain that the smell of Rick was still on there. But soon enough his mother took it and washed it, scolding him for being so slovenly and not doing it himself. 

Through the sadness, Shane pretended nothing happened when he was around Rick. They still hung out, still talked. Rick told him how much he liked Lori, how great she was. Shane smiled and congratulated him for finally finding someone special. Rick started to talk about going into law enforcement after graduation. Shane thought it was a good idea. 

Soon that night became an artifact of the past, an object in Shane's mind that he polished and kept looking nice, because it was one of the few things that kept him going. He graduated, went into training to become a sheriff alongside Rick, and tried to forget how much he loved him, because one-sided love can't support anyone. 

So Shane met women, went out with them, slept with them. After he turned 21, he drove down to Atlanta and went to his first gay bar. It was a spontaneous decision. He'd looked up the address on the Internet, wrote down the directions on a piece of paper, and drove down there all by himself. The bar was dimly light, and there were men dancing with men, women dancing with women, and some people that looked like they might be both or neither as well. It was a relief, seeing all of these people looking happy with each other. It told him that while his desires might be different, they weren't “not normal.” 

Even that first night, Shane did well. Men bought him drinks, charmed by his young, muscular physique and the wide-eyed expression on his face. He danced with some of them, and by the end of the night, he'd gotten enough kisses to make him want to come back again. He ended up going once a month, using the pretext of seeing a girl when his mother and father asked him why he was staying out so late. Those questions motivated him to move out into his own place. He didn't want them prying into the one thing that was totally his. 

The first time he went home with someone from the gay bar was nerve wracking. He was a little older, and Shane had barely caught his name. Not that that mattered. They wanted each other, so they had each other. The next morning the other man took him out to breakfast, and was kind. He gave Shane his phone number, told him to call anytime. Shane never did. 

After that, he decided that any hookups that were going to happen in that club were going to be short and sweet. He didn't mean to become the kind of guy to fuck and run, but if he didn't, then things might start to catch up with him. So Shane gained all kinds of experience on his feet and knees in bathrooms and in alleyways. He learned a lot on his stomach and on his back in cars and in strange bedrooms that he never allowed himself to sleep in. He gained a reputation, but everyone still wanted a chance at him. 

As time went on, Shane never developed any romantic relationships beyond the short term. He always needed an escape hatch available, just in case...well, it embarrassed him to admit it, but in the back of his mind he kept hoping that Rick would leave Lori, and then he might have a chance with him. But Rick was nothing if not loyal. When he asked Shane to be the best man at his wedding, Shane accepted, even though it felt like he was smiling with a mouthful of broken glass. He recognized that whatever there might have existed between him and Rick in that brief, blissful moment by the lake was gone. But goddamn it if it still didn't sting sometimes. 

Rick and Lori's wedding was beautiful, of course. The open bar helped. Shane managed to control himself though, and not drink too much. Drinking too much would cause him to weaken, and he was not about to cry at his best friends wedding. 

But as Shane stood outside of the rented hall, breathing in the summer night air, Rick had come to see him. They were both were tired and more than a little hazy from drink. 

“Thank you,” Rick had said, smiling at him, so happy. “for being here.”

Shane clapped his back, because that was a friendly gesture that men did between each other, and it didn't suggest anything more than that. “I'm glad to be here. You and Lori are gonna be real happy together. Shit, I've been wonderin' when you'd make an honest woman outta her.”

When he said that, he could have sworn Rick's happy expression fell, just the tiniest bit. Then Rick hugged him. Shane didn't move. Then Rick kissed him on the cheek. Shane's heart jumped. Then Rick said something that felt like a kick to the teeth.

“I'm sorry.” 

Shane knew exactly what he meant, and he wished he hadn't said it. He'd lived with the pain long enough where it had faded into the background. He didn't think about Rick when he had sex with other men and women anymore. He couldn't remember the last time he'd dreamed about him. But Rick still had the power to tear open that wound with just a few words. 

It had been thirteen years now, and that wound was opening up yet again because of Rick's need to do what he felt was right, and his need to be a good person. Shane wondered if the other man was even remotely aware of how much hurt he'd caused just by doing what was “right” and “good.” Yet he was willing to forgive him every time. Especially when he'd see him sitting at his kitchen table, reading the paper and drinking a cup of coffee. 

“Mornin'.” Shane muttered as he poured himself a cup. “I thought you had Carl for the night?”

“No, it was just for the evening. Lori was doing a thing.” Rick smiled slightly when he spoke her name and Shane swallowed his coffee without putting any milk or sugar in it. “You're not gonna believe this, she's thinking of joining a roller derby team.”

“What the hell is roller derby?” Shane considered opening the fridge but found that he didn't have an appetite. 

“Bunch of people on skates trying to knock each other over.” He shook out the paper and folded it, still smiling to himself. “Never would've thought she'd do something like that.”

“Hm.” Shane drained his cup. “You riding with me today?”

“Yeah.” Rick got up and placed his dishes in the sink. “Let's go.”

Rick didn't bring up Lori again during the ride to the station. It was a small mercy.


	3. Engagement Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Def. The zone in which skaters may legally engage.

For Glenn, there were definite advantages to living with a roommate like Amy. There were the obvious ones, like splitting the already reasonable rent on the quaint three bedroom house on the outskirts of town that was their home, not having to pay bills on his own, and the pleasure of friendly companionship. Then there were the more fringe benefits, like Amy's dog, a small, scruffy, wiry haired mutt named Fizzgig, who was always looking for a belly rub or a cuddle; Amy's insistence on keeping the house well stocked with booze and snacks in case of impromptu derby team parties; the late night Mario Kart championships fueled by too many cans of diet coke or energy drinks. 

And then there was the whiteboard on the fridge. When Glenn had moved into the house, he'd bought it with the intention of using it for grocery lists. Since Amy had moved in, it had become the home of the now-notorious “Euphemism Of The Day.” Glenn had already known all about Amy's bawdy sense of humor, having been friends with her since college. This was just another one in a line of filthy jokes that Amy thrived on. As he sipped black coffee, heavy on the sugar, from his favorite mug, a tacky touristy thing shaped like a peach that he'd found at a thrift shop, he read the whiteboard. It said:

The Euphemism Of The Day is  
“Big Gulp”- a hot person's penis  
ex. “Ugh, that dude is so hot, I wanna sip on his Big Gulp.”

Glenn sighed. The day before it had been “Corn On The Cob.” Lately, Amy was very gung ho about coming up with ridiculous ways of referring to penises. He chalked it up to her current obsession over getting laid. Her last relationship had ended rather explosively, with her screaming at the dude that he was a lousy fuck and an asshole. He couldn't speak to the accuracy of the first part, but from what Glenn had seen, the last statement was definitely accurate. What kind of guy came over, ate his hosts out of house and home, clogged the shower drain with his pubes and didn't clean it out? 

Now she was on the prowl for someone to sleep with casually. Right now, the target of her affection was Glenn's coworker at the pizza joint by the Skate-N-Fun, Theodore, whom everyone called T-Dog. Glenn wasn't sure he was too keen on the idea. T-Dog was a nice guy, could make a perfect pizza, and one of the best coworkers Glenn had ever had the chance to work with. But he did not want to wake up in the morning and run into him in the hallway. That would be just a touch too awkward.

Glenn gulped down the rest of his coffee, and placed the peach mug in the dishwasher. Fizzgig looked up at him expectantly, trying to convince him that he didn't need to be in his crate while everyone was gone and that he definitely would not tear up the house if he was. No dice. Glenn bent down, scratched his ears and led him to the crate. Amy had put a sign on it that said “Gay Baby Prison,” because Fizzgig freaked out over guys and he was her baby even though he was six years old. 

Glenn didn't have to work at the pizza place until five in the afternoon, but he'd promised Carol that he'd help her sort out some of the rental skates at the rink. She'd only recently gotten the place from her uncle Jim-Bob. Jim-Bob had been instrumental in helping King Country Roller Derby get their shit together, having participated in putting on roller derby bouts back in the sixties. But age and a heart attack the year before had taken him out of the business and into comfortable retirement. Thankfully, around that time Carol and her daughter had moved back from Louisiana, leaving behind Carol's husband. Glenn once heard Jim-Bob refer to the man as a “wart on Satan's asshole.” He was willing to take his word for it.

When he pulled up to the rink, he noticed a beat up pickup truck parked in his usual spot. It was a minor annoyance that was tempered by the fact that the truck had a sign on the side that said “Handyman” along with a phone number. Glenn walked into the rink and was greeted by a smiling Carol.

“The air conditioner is gonna be fixed by the end of the day.” She sighed. “This guy is amazing.” 

“Thank God. You still need me to organize the skates?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Carol had a moony expression on her face that told Glenn that she wasn't just happy about the air conditioning. Curiosity getting the better of him, he casually strolled to the back of the rink and looked out the back door. Sophia was sitting on the concrete steps that led down to the back lot of the rink, her chin resting on her hands and her eyes trained on the man working on the air conditioning unit. Glenn immediately understood why Carol was looking so happy. He was cute as fuck. 

The guy looked up. “You gonna supervise me too?” He had a pretty strong Southern accent, a graying goatee, shaggy brown hair, narrow blue eyes, and muscular arms. 

Sophia piped up. “Mom said I could be in charge of helping Mr. Dixon out.”

“She sure is.” The man wiped his hands on his pants. “Hey boss, can I get a smoke break?” He asked it with the utmost seriousness and Sophia nodded. “Thanks.” He stood, stretching out his back. “You can go and tell yer mama that I'm gonna need to head out to the junkyard soon for that part.”

“Alright.” Sophia scrambled to her feet and was off, leaving Glenn staring at the older man as he lit up a cigarette. 

“I'm Glenn. Uh, I help Carol out with the skates and stuff.”

“She told me 'bout you. I'm Daryl.” He didn't extend a hand as a greeting, but that was alright as they looked pretty dirty. 

“Nice to meet you Daryl.” Glenn swallowed. He rarely got this nervous around guys, but this one was something else. It was probably the muscles. “I can't tell you how grateful I am that you're fixing that damn thing. Practices were getting intolerable without the air conditioning.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, Carol was tellin' me 'bout that. Roller derby right?”

“Yeah.” Glenn waited for the older man to add something to that statement, but instead he just continued to smoke silently. “And it's just in time too. We're gonna be having a game here in about a month.” Daryl nodded but still didn't say anything. “I'm one of the referees for the team. It's gonna be a good one, we're going up against the Woodbury Warriors. Those girls are bloodthirsty, lemme tell you. Last time we played them one of our players broke their leg.” 

“Sounds dangerous.” 

“Yeah, sometimes. Most of the times it's just good, violent fun. Hey, if you want I can get you in for free at the game. Since you work here and all. It's a lot of fun.” 

The older man nodded. “Thanks.” He dropped his cigarette butt and crushed it with his boot. For a moment it looked like he was about to say something else, but instead he turned back to his work. “ I gotta get back to this.” He turned back to the unit and went back to work.

“Oh, right, of course. Uh. I gotta go too. Nice meeting you.”

Daryl gave him a small wave but didn't say anything. As he worked on organizing the skates and disinfecting them with Lysol, Glenn wondered if he'd somehow put his foot in his mouth or if the handyman was just awkward as hell. But that didn't make sense, because he'd been so at ease when talking to Sophia. Maybe he was just good with kids. Maybe he didn't like Asians. He did look like the stereotype of a backwoods redneck. He definitely had a cute butt though. 

Glenn slid a pair of size nine skates in their cubby. It had been a while since he'd been with anyone, but thirsting after some random, kind of buff white dude wasn't going to help. He put another pair of skates in their place and the wood underneath them creaked in a worrisome way. Carol was going to have to ask the guy to take a look at it. 

Once he was done with the skates he ran down the sidewalk to the pizzeria. T-Dog was unlocking the door just as he was going to open it. 

“Oh my God, dude, Carol finally got someone to fix the AC.”

“Finally.” T-Dog went back to wiping down the booth tables.

“And the guy who she hired? Kinda hot.” Glenn ducked behind the counter and pulled on his work shirt, a black t-shirt emblazoned with a cartoon chef and the name of the restaurant. 

“Is he now?” T-Dog asked, only half-interested. 

“Yeah.” Glenn sighed, the expression on his face just as moony as Carol's had been. “Hopefully she finds more work for him to do around the rink.”

T-Dog chuckled, shook his head, and lightly passed the rag in his hand over the plastic banner in front of the counter that said “Dale's Pizza: Proud Sponsors Of King County Roller Derby.” 

**

“So do you wanna sip on his Big Gulp or somethin'?” Amy raised and lowered her eyebrows, leaning against the counter as she sipped her coke. 

“Oh my God.” Glenn shook his head and heard T-Dog laugh from the kitchen. 

“I'm serious! Is he that hot?” The blonde tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Well yeah, but one, I only talked to him for a couple of minutes, and two, knowing my luck, he's straight.”

“Oh come on, so's pasta before you boil it.”

“So you're saying I should boil this dude? I'm pretty sure that's a felony.”

Amy threw her balled up straw wrapper at Glenn's face. “Not literally you dorkus.”

The bell above the door sounded and Glenn looked up to deliver his usual greeting of “Welcome to Dale's Pizza, what can I get started for you.” Except that this time it took him a couple of seconds to get it out. Daryl looked at him with a confused look on his face.

“You work here too?” The older man looked from Glenn to Amy and back to the younger man. 

“Uhm, yeah. This pays the bills, the rink thing is just to help out.” Glenn smiled, but tried not to do it too hard. 

“Oh.” Daryl grabbed a bottle of beer from the cooler by the counter. “This and a slice of pepperoni pizza.”

“Sure, that'll be four fifty.” Glenn tapped it into the register, grateful that he had an excuse to look away. The dude was definitely fine as fuck, now that he'd had time to consider it. 

“What, no rink discount?” Amy shook her drink, grinning at the both of them. “Are you working long term for the rink or is it just for the AC job?”

“Up for discussion. Depends what Miss Peletier wants.” Daryl avoided looking at Amy, and took the paper bag containing his beverage and the box containing his slice. “Thanks.”

“Have a good night. Hopefully Carol will hire you long term.” The words tumbled out a little too fast and Glenn tried to retrieve them. “It would be real good to have someone like you around.” 

The older man gave him a smile. “Thanks. Hopefully she will.” 

He walked out with a small wave to the both of them, and as soon as the door was closed Amy turned to Glenn. 

“Oh my God. He is so fucking cute. A little old for you, but still.” 

“Shut up!” Glenn shoved her shoulder. “I probably sounded like a total dork.”

“Probably.” Amy drained her drink. "Gimme a refill willya”

T-Dog poked his head out under the window that opened into the kitchen. “You gonna pay for that drink? Refills are free but you gotta pay for it first girl.”

“Oh come on, don't I get a friend discount? Or a cute girl discount?” She batted her eyelashes at the man.

“Like hell you do.” 

“Whatever.” She slid two dollar bills to go. “I'm gonna head back to the house. Seeya later Glenn. Bye Theo.” She blew T-Dog a kiss and she was off with her drink.

“So that was the guy huh?” T-Dog asked Glenn.

“Yeah.”

“Hm. He was kinda cute I suppose, if you're into guys that look like they got confederate flags hanging in their houses.” 

Glenn raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care? And since when do you call other guys cute.”

“Hey I'm just sayin'. Cute's cute, I got eyes don't I? Just be careful. He looks a little sketchy.”

The younger man sighed. T-Dog was right, but he couldn't help himself. He'd always had a soft spot for mean-looking white boys. Unfortunately, that usually spelled disaster.


	4. Skate Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> def. Most skaters opt to take a pseudonym for their on track alter ego. Often these are puns or parodies of celebrity names mixed with a violent or ghoulish nature.

The morning had been calm. Lori didn't have a shift at the coffee shop, so she spent her time cleaning up around the house. Having a job, even just a part time one, made it so her housekeeping was no longer a priority. Carl helped out, but he helped out in a kind of sullen pre-teen boy way: half-hearted and grumbling. He'd managed to keep his room decently clean, so she didn't have to do much except vacuum the carpet. She did find a stash of empty chip bags under his bed, along with some dusty sneakers and a copy of “The Red Pony” which she was pretty sure he was supposed to be reading for English. Judging from how crisp the spine was, it hadn't been touched. She plopped it in the center of his bed. Hauling the vacuum out, she was gripped with the now-familiar sense that she was somehow failing as a parent. It was such a vague feeling that she couldn't make it go away by thinking logically. It just settled into her gut and made her tired. Too tired to think about doing more chores after the vacuuming. So she sat down in front of her laptop to check her emails. She ignored the one from her mother, as it was just one of those weird conservative chain letters that she insisted on forwarding to Lori despite the fact that she'd been told not to. An announcement about teacher-parent meetings from the middle school. And one from Glenn. That perked her up. 

“Hey, here's the videos I promised I'd send. Just a heads up, the fresh meat class is starting in two weeks. No pressure tho. Email me back if you want to sign up. -Glenn”

He'd linked two videos. The first one was about the basics of roller derby. It explained how the game was played, with three blockers, a jammer, and a pivot from each team on the track. How the jammer had to get through the pack to score points, and how the pivot set the pace for the pack. Seeing how the jammer would push her way through the pack of players made Lori feel like moving herself. It looked dangerous, rough, and incredibly fun. In her mind, she saw herself shoving past other players on her skates, zooming around the track, a crowd cheering her on as she scored points. 

She'd never participated in team sports before. She'd never seen the appeal of it. She'd watch football with Rick on Sundays, but it hadn't interested her much. There was a connection in her mind that sports were something that was the domain of men. But this was a game played by women. All kinds of women, and that could include her. 

The second video was of the 2012 WFTDA East Region Playoffs, showing the Steel City Derby Demons versus the Charm City Roller girls. She clicked on it and watched as the two teams struggled for dominance. The action was so fast that it didn't matter to her what team was winning. The players moved with such agility and strength, and she wanted to be like them. To be able to tiptoe through a pack of players on the tips of her skates only to land on them and skate ahead, leaving them in the dust. There was freedom in their speed. 

Hearing their names called out by the announcer made her thrill. They all had pseudonyms that sounded so exciting. Crowella De Vil. IM Pain. Leannibal Lector. It was like once the players were on the track they became something much bigger than they might be in real life. She tried to picture her name being called out and skating out...except she had no idea what a good name might be for herself. 

She watched the game to the end. The final score was irrelevant, because all she could think about was skating fast and hard. Her email back to Glenn was short and sweet.

“I watched the video. Sign me up for the fresh meat class! :)”

As she clicked send, she noticed the time. If she wanted to pick up Carl on time, she needed to leave now. Rushing out the house, the only thing she thought about was speed. 

***

Lori bounced on her heels. Carl hated it when she waited outside of the car for him, but it was too damn hot, and she wasn't about to waste gas by running the AC. The middle school parking lot was crowded with parents and buses, as was the elementary school lot right next to it. Lori's gaze wandered over and caught sight of someone familiar. It was the player named Michowned. She remembered her name because Carl always yelled out “Owned!” when he played video games with his friends. The other woman was dressed in a tank top and a long skirt with a swirling orange and pink pattern on it and her dreadlocks were artfully piled on her head like an intentionally messy crown. With some hesitation, Lori walked over.

“Hey, I saw you at the practice at the Skate-N-Fun.” It was an awkward opening, but the woman smiled.

“Oh yeah! I thought I recognized you too.” 

“Same, I'm Lori. My son goes to the middle school.” 

“Michonne. Mine's at the elementary.” The other woman extended her hand and Lori shook it. “So are you still thinking of joining?”

“Yeah, I committed to the Fresh Meat classes.” 

“That's awesome. I'm going to be teaching them along with Glenn.” Michonne beamed, and Lori felt at ease. “We've only got a couple more people who signed up for it, so it'll be good an intimate. We'll have you whipped into shape in no time.” 

In the distance Lori heard the middle school bell ring out the end of the day. 

“I gotta say I'm a little nervous. I mean, I haven't skated since I was a kid.”

“Oh don't worry. Most of the people on the team couldn't skate worth a damn when we started the league. I could tell you some stories. Anyway, we start off by making sure you know how to skate before we move you up to the real nitty-gritty. I will warn you though, once you start, you're going to be totally addicted. It's so much fun.” Michonned looked over and waved to a small boy who was running up to her, his Spongebob backpack bouncing on his back.

“Mommy, we did painting today! I couldn't bring it home because Mrs. Sylvan said we had to let them dry.” 

Michonne crouched down and hugged her child. “Aw, well I can't wait to see it.”

“I can bring it home tomorrow. We had to paint our favorite animals, so I painted a tiger.”

“Oh boy!” Michonne looked up at Lori. “Mike, this is Lori. She's going to be a derby player too.”

Mike nodded and looked up at Lori with a wave. “Hello.”

“Hello.” Lori looked back at her car, and saw Carl leaning up against it looking impatient. “Uh-oh, looks like mine's waiting. I'll seeya soon then. The fresh meat classes start in two weeks right?”

“Yep yep. I'll be looking forward to seeing you there.” 

“Me too. Bye y'all.” 

When Lori unlocked the car Carl slumped into the seat with one of his irritable sighs. The drive home was once again highlighted by one-sided conversation. 

“How was school.”

A shrug and a look out the window.

“Do you have any homework?”

“Yeah.”

“You got it or do you need a hand?”

“I got it.”

Carl's hair was getting long, and whenever Lori or Rick suggested a haircut he vehemently refused it. It skimmed his eyes, and when he lowered his head Lori couldn't see them. 

“Your hair's looking pretty good.” 

Carl sighed, managing to fit in a whole lot of exasperation in one exhale of breath.

“It is! What is it, the emo look?”

He rolled his eyes, but a smile cracked his stony face. “No one says that anymore.”

“Well, excuse me for being behind the times. Do you have any plans for Friday?”

Carl shook his head.

“I'm going to the Skate-N-Fun. Dad has work, so you're gonna have to come along with me.”

Carl groaned. “Why can't I just stay home or go hang out at Shane's house?”

“Because Shane is working too and because I said so. They have video games there, and you can bring your Ipod. Heck, if you really get bored you can strap on a pair of skates.”

“Yeah right. That's little kid stuff.”

“Hey, I'm gonna be doing it, and I'm no kid.” Lori smacked his leg lightly. “Seriously though, it's only going to be two hours max. We can get pizza after. Next week Ri- Dad said he could take you. Ok?”

“Whatever.” Carl bowed his head and his hair hid his eyes.

“Well I'm glad we worked that out.” Lori sighed. After that it was silence. Her mind wandered as she made the familiar turns back to the house. It felt like putting the cart before the horse, but she wanted her new name. Something impressive, catchy. Except she couldn't think of any ones that sounded unique. 

Once they were home Carl locked himself away in his room and Lori put a frozen lasagna into the oven to cook. While it heated, she settled in front of her laptop again, typed in “WFTDA championships” into Google, and watched every clip she could find until Carl came downstairs complaining that he was hungry.

**

The Skate-N-Fun was surprisingly busy that Friday. Surprising to Lori because she didn't think that most kids these days would be so into rollerskating. But there was a gaggle of children sitting around one of the long tables by the snack bar having a birthday party, and even some teenagers on skates. Carl wasn't impressed. He'd been sulky all afternoon, and Lori almost felt bad for making him tag along. At this point, she was well convinced that he hated her guts. Carol's daughter was running the skate rental window, her blonde hair pulled back by a purple barrette. When she saw Carl she waved and smiled at him, which made him jam his hands in his back pockets. 

“Hey! I know you! You're in Ms. Wilson's English class!” She sounded as peppy as Carl was sullen. He nodded as an answer. Lori thought there might be a flush in his cheeks. 

“See I told you this was a good idea.” She nudged her son with her elbow and he didn't roll his eyes at her. Although if he had Lori couldn't have seen in under that increasingly shaggy hair. “I need to rent a pair of skates.”

“Okidoke, what shoe size are you?” 

“I'm a 8 ½.” Lori watched as the young girl expertly scanned the rows of skates and pulled out a white pair that had a grayish cast on it from age. They were the high top kinds that Lori remembered wearing when she was a kid herself.” 

Sophia looked at Carl as she handed them over. “Are you gonna skate?”

“Naw.” He mumbled. “I was gonna play the videogames.” 

“Wanna play against me at DDR? Oh, that'll be 8 dollars.” She turned back to Lori, her job suddenly remembered. “I'm gonna get a break soon.”

“You should hang out with her, she seems really nice.” Lori pointed out as she settled onto a bench to put on her skates. She felt apprehensive about it, and the fact that her purse was currently resting in a small locker with no lock on it. Carl shrugged. His shoulders had become very expressive lately. “I'm gonna be on the rink, let me know if you need more money for tokens ok?” She ruffled his hair, which he leaned out of.

“Don't have too much fun.” He said, sounding not so aloof for once. “Don't break your face.”

Lori chuckled. “I'll try.” She rose from the bench, and grabbed hold of the edge of the wall around the rink. On the carpet it was ok, with small steps she could manage to get to the entry of the rink. Stepping down into it was something different. Holding onto the wall, she tried to remember how she used to do it as a kid. Moving her feet didn't work. It just made her wobble. Her face a grimace of concentration, she lifted her foot slightly. Nope. Even more wobbly. 

“Hey you! Nice to see you!” A figure skidded to a halt by her. It was Amy's sister, Andrea. “So you're gonna be in the fresh meat classes huh? That's awesome.” 

Lori looked up at her. She wasn't wearing a helmet and her blonde hair was down loose around her shoulders. She also had the most magnificent blue-green eyes Lori had ever seen. Nicer than Rick's even. 

“Yeah. I think I'm starting at a deficit though.” Lori tried to move forward and had to grab onto the edge of the wall hard to prevent herself from falling.

“Hey, lemme tell you a secret.” Andrea leaned in. She was wearing a tank top and black leggings and she smelled like sweat and warm perfume. “Don't try and move your feet like you're walking. Push with them.” She pointed down to her feet and demonstrated. She turned her feet at a slight angle and she moved forward. “Also, squat down. It'll make it so you keep your balance.” Lori watched as Andrea did that. The movement combined with the leggings really showed off how perky her butt was. 

'Maybe mine will look as good once I start this.' Lori thought. She took a breath and tried pushing forward on her skates, squatting as low as she could. It worked much better. 

“Let go of the wall, it's safer if you're not holding onto it.” Andrea said, skating slowly alongside her. “ Don't worry. You'll fall. But when you do, just try to do it so you land on your ass.” She patted her own backside. “It's the best cushion you've got.” 

Lori laughed. She she was moving slow, and her thigh muscles were burning, but she was going around the rink. Other skaters zoomed by her, but Andrea stayed by her side, encouraging her. As she moved, Lori began to smile. She was sweating too, but that didn't matter. Once they were back to the entrance Lori had used, they paused. She looked around. Carl was still seated on the benches by the rink, looking at his phone, occasionally looking up to look at Sophia, who was still manning the skate rentals. 

“Is that your son?” Andrea asked.

“Yeah. I dragged him along and you can see how much he's liking it.” Lori puffed out. “His dad wasn't available to watch him.”

Andrea nodded, but didn't ask for any more clarification than that. Lori appreciated it. They skated slowly around the rink once more. Lori began feeling confident. She could picture herself going as fast as she'd seen the other players go. Without thinking, she tried to push off on her skates faster. 

The ground of the rink was hard as hell on her ass, and she let out a yelp. 

“Woo!” Andrea clapped and skated to a stop. “Alright! First fall of the night and you managed to land correctly. Way t'go girl!” She steadied herself and extended a hand to the brunette. “You ok?”

Lori nodded, her cheeks burning. With Andrea helping her she got back up on her skates. “I hope Carl didn't see that. He'd never let me live it down.”

The blonde looked off into the distance. “I think you're off the hook. Looks like he's over at the arcade games.”

“Good.” Lori tentatively pushed herself forward. Her ass hurt like hell and she was embarrassed, but she could still skate. No reason to stop now. She kept going until her thighs felt like they were on fire and sweat was rolling down her temples. When she hobbled out of the rink, Andrea followed her.

“You're pretty damn good yaknow. Just staying upright on the skates is half the battle.” The blonde pushed her hair back behind her ears. Lori focused on that detail for reasons she wasn't sure about. All she was sure about was that the bench felt really good to sit on, despite the fact that it was hard plastic. Her butt still ached from the fall, and she winced as she tried to get comfortable. 

“I'm going to have such a bruise.” She said, smiling crookedly. 

“Probably, and it'll be the first of many.” Andrea pulled the top of her leggings down slightly, and pointed to a fading bruise on the top of her right hip. “I got this one at the last practice. Gloria knocked my ass down.”

“Ouch.”

“I'm gonna go get a bottle of water, you want something?” Andrea was bouncing on the rubber toe-stops of her skates. The way she moved reminded Lori of Amy. 

“I'm good, thanks.” Lori looked over at the arcade section. Carl was indeed there, playing on the Dance Dance Revolution machine with Sophia. He was smiling as he jumped around on the arrows, his legs pumping and his hair flopping around. For the first time in a while, Lori could see him having fun. It was a welcome sight. She considered getting up and checking in on him, but thought better of it. Carl was ok right now.

Andrea skated back over with two bottles of water in hand. She put one down next to Lori. “Go on, you need to stay hydrated.”

The brunette let out a small laugh and shook her head, but picked up the bottle and drank anyway. It felt good. The coolness of the water spread across the inside of her chest and belly. 

“That's a big thing. A lot of people who are new to skating forget to stay hydrated. It's important though.” Andrea sat next to her, letting out a relaxed sigh. “God, there really is nothing like it.”

“Come again?” Lori asked quizzically.

“Skating. I dunno, it's just the best. Ever since I started doing it, it's really been awesome.” Andrea draped one of her arms behind the back of the bench. “It's the best stress reliever. Well...” She leaned in with a wicked grin. “Second best.” She winked and Lori laughed.

“Oh yeah? What do you do that's so stressful?”

“I'm a civil rights lawyer.” The blonde stretched out her legs out in front of her.

“Oh. Is that why you had 'Illegal Eagle' on your helmet?” The brunette took another sip of water. It was losing it's chill from her holding the bottle in her hand.

“Yep, that's my skate name. You're going to have to think of one for yourself. Choose carefully though, because it's a real bitch to change it once you get started.” 

Lori nodded. As she'd watched the videos and looked up the terminology, she'd realized she was going to need a pseudonym. “Yeah, I was thinking about that. It's tough though, I'm not very creative with that stuff. Everything I came up with was boring.” 

“What did you come up with?” Andrea brushed her hair away from her neck. Lori couldn't help noticing those casual movements from the blonde. Maybe it was the nerves. 

“Oh God, really bad stuff. Like Betty Rage, Road Rash, Hell On Wheels, Gory Lori-”

“That last one is good. Very Garbage Pail Kids.” 

Lori stopped. “You think?”

“Yeah. It's simple, it's sounds good, it'll be easy for the presenters to call out when you're skating out in your first bout.” Andrea gave her the thumbs up. 

“Hm.” Lori nodded. She normally didn't have this much trouble talking to people, but the blonde was making her nervous. It was a kind of nervous she didn't recognize, and it was strange. She looked towards the arcade again. Carl was still playing, and, from the looks of it, losing against Sophia.


	5. Contact Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Def.- Areas of the body that may be used to give or receive a hit

“That'll be ten fifty then. Can I get you anything else?”

Shane gave the young Asian man behind the cash register as grin he was hoping was flirty and not creepy as he paid for his food. The pizza place was empty save for them, the cook in the back, and the stereo playing the classic rock radio station. The sound of Creedance Clearwater Revival's “Bad Moon Rising” mingled with the hum of the cooler full of cokes and beers and the clatter from the kitchen. Being the only customer in the restaurant made Shane bold. He leaned in slightly over the metal counter top, smiled a charming smile, and lowered his voice. 

“Just your number.”

As soon as the words left his lips he regretted them. That definitely came off as creepy. But the young man with the name tag that said Glenn got all flushed and gave one of those insanely tantalizing laughs. The kind where the person looks down, and is smiling so big that they can't actually fully laugh. Nothing made Shane melt faster. The younger man's mouth looked so good when he smiled. 

“Lemme go check on your order real quick.”

His reaction was encouraging. It always was. Shane had started to stop by Dale's for pizza when he'd first moved into his house. The pizza was cheap and decent, and it was convenient. About two years ago Glenn had started working there. That was enough to ensure that Shane kept coming back to the restaurant. Usually he made a point to never flirt with anyone in town. It was too small, and news traveled too quick. But Glenn, he'd gathered from talking to the younger man, was a transplant from Michigan, and had ended up moving to town from Atlanta after college as a way to avoid going back up North. That made him a safe bet for flirting, maybe even more in the future. There was no history between them to complicate things. 

Shane had definitely featured the younger man in his late night fantasies, sometimes even in the ones he concocted on his way home from the sheriff's station. Right now he was thinking of how he was going to re-imagine this when he got home. Rick was still at the station, so that gave him time to jerk off in peace. As soon as he got home, Shane knew he'd drop the pizza box on the kitchen counter, head straight to his room, and masturbate while imagining his pretty pizza boy Glenn on his knees, smiling that same bashful smile up at him.

The bell above the door rang, and Shane became overly aware of the other customer's presence. He glanced back. The man who had just walked in through the door looked shaggy and like no amount of showering could wash off the grime and grease from his hair. The man noticed Shane looking at him and became noticeably tense. Shane was attuned to that kind of behavior. The guy was acting guilty as hell. But he was off duty, and he quite frankly didn't care if the guy was carrying 50 bags of crystal meth down his pants. 

Glenn came back from the kitchen carrying the large pizza box and still smiling. Shane took the box with a wink. It made Glenn blush even redder, and Shane felt validated for that moment. It had been a risky move, especially with the stranger behind him. The payoff had been worth it though. For a moment, he'd felt like a normal person with a normal love life, flirting with cute acquaintances and certainly not pining for anyone. It was a small defiance. 

“Have a good night.” Glenn's voice was bright and lilting. Shane couldn't help responding to it in kind.

“Oh I will.” Glenn laughed, harmonizing with the bell above the door as Shane headed out. 

**

The pizza was cooling off rapidly, but Shane didn't care. He hadn't even made it to his bedroom. It had been a while since he'd had the opportunity to jerk off and not feel weird about it. Masturbating while Rick was under the same roof as him was too awkward. Shane had tried it once, but found he was too scared of making noises to really enjoy it. Rick was at the station for the night, so he could pretend he was living alone again. His jeans and belt ended up rumpled at his knees, and he gripped the counter hard as he moved his hand fast. In his mind, he thought of Glenn. Of kissing him, of learning how that mouth of his tasted. Of their hands gliding and caressing over each other's bodies. Of the younger man's lips wrapped around his dick, moving slow and wet. His lips looked so soft and ready for kisses that Shane always stared at them. 

It was something familiar, comforting. Shane knew that by the time he would be at the point in his fantasy where he was deep inside Glenn, holding his legs up in the air while he fucked him, he'd be ready to cum. But he took his time. He could afford to. He slowed his hand down, and breathed deep. He had the time to add details. The younger man's brown eyes looking up at him while Shane guided his mouth to his dick. The noises Glenn might make when touched. Shane liked that. 

Except those pretty brown eyes had nothing on Rick's. Shane shuddered as the Glenn in his mind was replaced by Rick. As good as the Glenn fantasy was, the ones with Rick in them were better. Probably because Shane could still remember how his mouth felt on his. So now it was Rick on his knees, looking up at Shane, his eyes full of love, pulling away from his cock to say all the words Shane wanted to hear. I need you. I want you. I love you...

His body pitched forward as the orgasm hit, every bit of him tensing and pulling up. Shane gasped, struggling to grab at some napkins to keep himself from making a huge mess. After a few minutes, he had the wherewithal to pull his pants up and make it to his bedroom to get changed. 

He was just about to take his first bite of lukewarm pizza when he heard the key in the front door. The sound kicked him in the gut, but he forced himself to take the bite anyway. He grabbed his phone from the surface of the kitchen table and pretended to read something while Rick kicked off his boots by the doorway, sighing from exhaustion.

“Got pizza huh?” Rick said it like it was an afterthought as he crossed the kitchen to the fridge. He retrieved a beer from it, cracking it open and taking a swallow. 

“You can have some.” Shane looked over at his friend. He looked as exhausted as he sounded. It made him want to stand up and hug him close. Take him to bed and watch him fall asleep. Rick took a second beer out of the fridge and held it out to Shane. He took it, letting his hand make contact with Rick's. The same hand that only half an hour earlier had been stroking his dick. It was a dumb move, but Rick didn't seem to notice, or maybe he was too tired to care. His eyes were blank and sagging.

“Gonna hit the hay early.” Rick sighed out before tipping the can back to his lips again. His eyes closed and his Adam's Apple bobbed with the motion of swallowing. It was another dumb move, but Shane let his eyes focus on Rick's neck. There was stubble there already. He'd have to shave tomorrow morning. Rick would be too tired to do it tonight. 

Reach out. Put your hand on the back of his neck. Kiss the bumpy, hairy skin and tell him you'll take care of it. Lead him to the bathroom. Take out the razor and cream. Shave him clean and kiss the smooth skin again and again...

Shane swallowed too much beer at once and it hurt his throat. 

“'Night.” Rick mumbled, and he left the kitchen. Shane's grip on the can tensed, making the aluminum crackle. The noise was harsh in the quiet of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this update has been so long in the works, but thank you to all that are sticking around. I'm not abandoning this story, it's just that life happens so much.


End file.
